


Relentless Hunter

by Sealie



Series: Homo sapiens lupus litus [3]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-29
Updated: 2011-10-29
Packaged: 2017-10-25 01:33:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/270260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sealie/pseuds/Sealie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Continuation from 'Theobromine' and 'It's a Were thing.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	Relentless Hunter

**Author's Note:**

> Rating: Gen (ish)  
> PG-13  
> Word count: ~3, 800  
> Warning: see notes at end  
> Advisory: dubious science  
> Spoilers: none  
> Beta: kindly looked over by springwoof.
> 
> For witch_in_winter’s birthday. She requested more were-Steve and some Gracie.

**Relentless Hunter**   
By Sealie 

 

Danny admitted quite freely that relentless -- although Matt had called it pit bull tenacity -- was his middle name.

Steve was a werewolf. Or to be accurate was this weird _Homo sapiens lippy litty_ werewolfie thingy.

It’s fascinating. And Danny loved a mystery.

Lazing on a deckchair on Steve’s lanai with his laptop, seventy percent of his attention on Steve and Gracie pootling -- Grace was reading Jeeves and Wooster novels -- along the rocky outcrop on the west of Steve’s house, Danny surfed to Google.

Typing ‘Homo sapiens lupus litty’ into the search engine really didn’t help, unless Steve was a disease. Danny chortled to himself – that explained a lot. There was link about an introduction to dog obedience training. He laughed so loud that Steve, far off on the tip of the rocky outcrop, straightened from his rock-pooling crouch and stared across at him.

Danny added ‘excellent hearing’ to his list of interesting attributes.

Danny knew that _Homo sapiens_ meant knowing man. Playing with the words, he figured out that lupus either meant a disease, which on reflection was nothing to laugh at, or was Latin for wolf. Litty didn’t seem to mean anything. Liti was stone or a chemical element or meant to pour or to weep.

Stone wolf? Weeping wolf?

Stone wolf had the sort of ring behind it that he knew that Steve would be all about.

“I am a stone wolf,” Danny intoned, and laughed.

The power of Google was invoked again, and Danny found out that Stone Wolf was a name of a vineyard, a golf club, and a popular blogging name. Wolf images that were carved from stone were protection fetishes.

It was too popular a word combination.

‘Weeping wolf’ was a sad poem. Danny slammed down the lid on the laptop.

Grace shrieked piercingly, as was usual with eight year old girls, but it was her _This is so awesome_ shriek and not her _Spider! Save me, Danno_ shriek, so Danny merely tugged his sunglasses down his nose so he could better see his charges.

Grace was quivering in glee, little hands in clenched fists tight against her mouth. Steve had levered up a massive stone and had, apparently, revealed marine treasure on par with a Dragon’s trove.

Okay, this was potentially interesting, even if there was a reasonable chance of getting damp and sandy.

Danny kicked off his shoes and balled his socks up, throwing the pair in one shoe for safe keeping. He rolled up his trouser legs, and setting his sunglasses back up his nose, began to pick his way slowly and carefully over the rocks.

By the time he reached them, both Steve and Grace were closer to the end of the rocky outcrop and practically head first in the water – heads together peering into a crevice with their backsides in the air.

Danny kind of wished that he had his phone on him to take a photo. A splash of water out in the bay grabbed Danny’s attention for a millisecond, and he saw the flip of a seal’s tail as the animal darted back under the water.

“Oh, they’re like jewels,” Grace breathed.

“What you got there?” Danny asked.

“Danno!” Grace bobbed upright. “You came over.”

“I couldn’t let my best girl have all the fun.”

“Come see. Come see.” Grace beckoned, shuffling slightly over to give him an inch of space.

“What have you got?” Laboriously, Danny got down on his knees. If he did this again he was going to bring some pads.

“Here.” Steve shot him a little smile as he pointed at a mass of green weed.

“What am I looking at—Holy Cow, what are they?” There were two jet black tube-like things each about an inch long covered with jewel-bright gold and turquoise swirling lines.

“Aren’t they pretty.” Grace wiggled under his arm. “They’re _Chellyidonnura hirrididid_ …”

“ _Chelidonura hirundinina_ ,” Steve corrected patiently. “[Blue Swallowtail slug](http://seaslugsofhawaii.com/species/Chelidonura-hirundinina-a.html).”

“That’s a slug?” Danny asked because that was one damn pretty slug.

“By definition it’s a slug, but to be more accurate it’s a Cephalaspidean.”

“Can I touch them?” Grace asked.

“Best not,” Steve said, “they’re pretty small and delicate. Here.” He plucked a hand-sized rock out of the tide pool. “See that little oval that looks like an armoured overcoat? It’s a chiton. It’s related to your _Chelidonura hirundinina_.”

“It’s like totally different.” Grace leaned over the water. Automatically, Danny supported her.

“I have a couple of books back in the house, I’ll show you. They’re both different types of molluscs – types of snails.”

Crouched over the crevice with water slowly sloshing in an out, Danny could see that it was a riot of colour both animal and vegetable. There were hundred of thousands of things… Okay, that was probably an exaggeration but the entire crevice was alive.

Steve turned the rock over and pointed out an anemone, and a tiny crab cowering in a dint in the stone. There was something else, white and slimy, called a tunicate, which was more closely related to fish than a jelly fish. And that was just on one rock.

Danny looked up and the seal was back, bobbing in the water watching them, expression (and Danny admitted that he was anthropomorphising) perplexed.

“Here.” Steve put the rock back under the water, back in its previous orientation and very gingerly picked up a round black spiny thing. “This is _Echinothrix diadema_ \-- see it has short spines and a little blue tinge to it. This urchin isn’t poisonous but some are. So only when I’ve showed you how to tell them apart can you pick them up safely.”

“Don’t pick up any urchins,” Danny corrected.

“Danno.” Grace rocked back on her heels, sighing heavily.

Startled, the seal watching them ducked back under the water. Perplexed, Grace looked at the sea, but she had missed it.

“It’s okay. He’ll be back,” Steve said.

“Who will be back?” Grace stood up.

“If you crouch down low and are quiet, you’ll see,” Steve said.

Obediently, Grace dropped down. She was up and down like a yo-yo. Danny wished that he had her knees.

“What did you see in the big pool you were looking at before?” Danny asked, distracting Grace until the seal came back.

“We saw a baby stingray,” Grace whispered. She cupped her hands together, showing its tiny size. “Steve says that they get as big as three foot. Steve says it normally lives deep, but it’s only a baby and maybe got a little confused during the storm a couple of days ago and it will swim out on the next high tide.”

“Steve says?” Danny grinned.

“Heh,” Steve whispered and nodded in the direction of the bay.

“It a seal, Uncle Steve. Like you.” Grace quivered in glee.

“Not quite,” Danny said and meant it like a hundred different ways.

The seal bobbed in the gentle sea swell, as interested in them as they were in it. Danny again wished that he had brought his camera. Beside him, Steve settled easily on his haunches, arms clasped around his knees. Grace snuggled under Danny’s arm, head tucked under his armpit.

“Cool?” Danny asked, softly.

“Best ever.”

It looked so intelligent. Big luminous black eyes caught the bright sunlight as it watched, without shifting focus. Then in a blink, the seal flipped its tail and dropped beneath the waves.

Grace spoke. “Is it like Ms. Dale said? Is it a Hawaiian Monk Seal? They’re endangered, Danno. People used to hunt them. Whalers a long time ago, but even during World War II. Now they get caught in litter, and they can’t swim properly and they drown. We went to the beach and picked up litter. And overfishing, there isn’t enough food for the pups.” Grace sagged miserably against him.

What the Hell were they teaching her at the Academy of Sacred Hearts?

“He’s a little bit off the beaten track,” Steve said. “Normally, they are around the North-western Islands. When we get back to the house we can call the Hawaiian Monk Seal Sighting Hotline and give them a report.”

“Can we?” Grace perked up.

“It would be the responsible thing to do,” Steve said soberly. “It will help the scientists and people working to help conserve the species.”

“Should we report in now?” Grace asked intently. “Isn’t it important to tell someone what happened as soon as possible because you forget or change what you thought you saw?”

Steve blinked, a little surprised, but hiding it well, at Grace’s astute rendition of basic police-witness protocols. Danny preened. He glanced at his watch -- it was past lunch time.

“Sounds like a good idea,” Danny said. Grace and Steve had been out in the sun, rooting around the rock pools for a couple of hours, they could use a break.

Grace jumped to her feet. “Come on.”

“Hey, remember, don’t run,” Steve chastised and immediately looked askance at Danny, conscious of treading on parental toes.

“‘Kay, Uncle Steve,” Grace said easily and as sure footed as a deer, set off across the rocks.

“I--” Steve began.

“It’s okay, Steve.” Surprisingly, it was. Steve knew this shit; he was a Navy SEAL commander and Boss of 50, stopping him giving orders and direction to those that he considered needing guidance and instruction was not going to happen. Cautioning Grace just meant that he cared.

Steve rose from his crouch in one smooth stretch. He held out a hand, offering help. Danny took it. His grip was warm and firm and made it easy to stand on the uneven rocks.

“We should get you some reef boots if you’re going to come rock pooling,” Steve observed, releasing his hand. “Bare feet can be fun, but it’s gonna be a bitch if you stand on an urchin. Damn, you’d never let us hear the end of it.”

“Excuse me. I think that I would be allowed to complain if my feet were pierced with a thousand poisonous spines,” Danny pointed out.

“Hey, tell you what.” Steve bent over and pulled at the Velcro straps on his boots with a loud rip and toed them off. He had these weird rubbery looking black ankle boots with split toes.

“What are you doing?”

“Me, I’m going to swim back. You can use my boots. Here--” he straightened and pulled off his t-shirt off in the same motion, “-- catch.”

The wadded t-shirt caught Danny right in the face. Before he could begin to remonstrate, there was hardly a splash. The idiot had just dived head first into the water.

“You can’t just throw yourself into --”

Steve’s seal-sleek head bobbed up. “I’ve been swimming in this cove since I was eighteen months old. I know how deep it is.” And then he turned, flipped his legs out of the water, reminiscent of the Monk Seal, and sank under the surface. Dolphin kicking, he arrowed back to the house.

Danny tugged on the neoprene boots, settling his toes in Steve’s grooves. It was a weird and intimate feeling. His feet were a little bigger than Steve’s and his toes were a little scrunched. But he was much more surefooted and confident as he picked his way back to where Grace was dancing on the sand, waiting for Steve to emerge from the water.

~*~

After Grace had breathlessly phoned in her report, they spent a quiet day. Hanging around the house was the name of the game. Steve had dug out some old college level Marine Ecology books and a couple of coffee table books with vibrantly coloured pictures of local marine life. Reading had been interspersed with playing on the beach and throwing themselves into the sea (Danny had watched from the shore). Around five o’clock Steve had made some noises about inviting Chin and Kono and friends over for a BBQ, but it was half-hearted and edged with weariness. Grace was happy to be treated to pizza and was especially ecstatic at being allowed eat it in front of the television, lazing on the sofa.

“Don’t yell, please. But is it really that different from the pizza that you get in New Jersey?” Steve asked.

Grace smiled around a mouthful of pie. “Daddy’s gonna yell.”

Effectively derailed by being found predictable by an eight year old, Danny scowled.

“Is it different?” Steve asked Grace.

She shrugged. “Pizzas are all different – even on the Mainland. There’s lots of different types. You don’t get the big, gianormous ones with the thin, thin crust here. And they’re sloppy.” Grace licked her fingers. “Mommy likes Indian Food. She says you can’t get a decent Chicken Tikka Massala anywhere except Manchester.”

A bit thrown by random Grace-ness, Steve looked at Danny.

“I don’t like Loco Moco,” Grace continued.

Danny shuddered – half the problem was with the name. Loco Moco – crazy snot.

“I’ve finished, Daddy. Can I look at Steve’s books?”

“Wash your hands first.”

Grace was off like a shot, holding her hands, fingers splayed, before her as she moved into the kitchen.

“DVD?” Steve asked.

“What you got?”

“Chin loaned me Captain America. Have you seen it?”

“Nah, let me have a look at the box.”

Steve unearthed it from the pile of paperwork and folders balancing on the edge of the coffee table and handed it over. It looked all right, Danny thought. Marvel cartoonish stuff shouldn’t be too violent for Grace and maybe the WWII action would keep him and Steve entertained.

Steve hooked up the TV to the player instead of the X-box, while Danny cleared away the pizza detritus.

Grace wandered onto the lanai to retrieve one of Steve’s books.

The film was a lot of fun, dropping them into Brooklyn with an asthmatic, weak and feeble Steve (Danny snorted) Rogers watching a newsreel.

“Grace, what are you doing?”

“I’m reading, Daddy,” Grace called from the lanai. “Seals like to feed at dawn and dusk on shoaling fish in the … water column. What’s the water column?”

Danny raised an eyebrow at Steve.

Turning away from Rogers being beaten up, Steve answered, “It means the sea from the seabed to the surface.”

The action segued into introspective ruminations and then the story got interesting as Rogers was enlisted and put into a version of boot camp that made Steve snort.

“Grace?” Danny called. “Gracie?”

Steve paused the DVD as Danny pushed off the couch. The lanterns were lit on the lanai and he could see the lounger that Grace normally liked to curl up on, but he couldn’t see Grace.

Steve beat him outside.

“Grace!” Danny bellowed.

She was nowhere to be seen. The contrast with the amber lights on the lanai made the dark, moonless, tropical night impenetrable.

“Grace!” Danny screamed.

“Da--” it was Grace’s voice on the still night air.

“Grace! Grace!”

“Shut up!” Steve ordered arm outstretched, preventing Danny running blindly onto the beach. “I’m listening.”

The only thing that Danny could hear was the push and pull of booming waves. Standing stock still, Steve was a poised line of listening intent, mouth open and eyes unfocused. Abruptly, Steve shifted, there was no other word for it. He elongated, stretching taller as limbs lengthened. His ears shrunk, flattening against the side of his head and pinched at the tip.

“Holy shit.”

Steve canted his head to the side. His amber eyes glowed. “She’s in the water. Stay here.”

He loped off across the sand, shedding his t-shirt. He dove into the shallow surf and into the unfathomable darkness. Danny followed him into the water. Pushing through the cold surf until it foamed at his waist, he had to stop because he couldn’t see anything and his footing was becoming unstable. The bright lights illuminating the lanai were at his back. He wished that he had his gun; he would shoot them out.

“Steve! Grace!” Holy fuck. Grace. His baby was out there. Oh my God, it was paralysing. “Steve! Find her.” The surf sucked at his legs, threatening to draw him out further into the sea. Danny staggered backwards toward the shore. “Steve!”

Fuck. Emergency Services. He could call the Coast Guard; they would come with power boats and helicopters with powerful search lights.

“Danny,” Steve’s voice drifted over the thrashing waves. “-- got her.”

Danny held his arms high, even though he knew that the house lights would be a beacon, making a silhouette. “Here.”

His eyes were getting used to the interchange of darkness and light. He caught the play of light across Steve’s arm as he backstroked. Grace was held securely, high on his chest. The man sliced through the water, kicking through troughs and surfing over the cresting waves.

“I’m coming,” Danny yelled, splashing through the heavy water.

“Stay there,” Steve ordered. On his back, he body-surfed the final rising wave and then kicked through the foam. Danny got to him, caught them, his hands clasped Steve and enveloped Grace. Steve stood, surefooted on the rippling sand beneath his feet. He lifted Grace higher, tucking her head against the length of his throat, and as Danny grabbed him, he grabbed Danny.

“Daddy,” Grace wailed.

Together they fumbled out of the sucking grip of the water and onto the damp sand. Danny stumbled taking them both to their knees.

“We’re safe, Danny. We’re okay.” Steve steadied them both.

“Daddy.” Grace latched onto Danny, slinging wet arms around his neck. “I’m sorry,” she hiccupped, “I wanted to see the seal.”

“Baby.” Danny held her close. Steve was still in his space and he in Steve’s grasp. “You’re grounded for the rest of your life.”

“Only until she’s eighteen,” Steve joked feebly.

“Idiot.” Danny hauled him in and mashed a haphazard kiss against the side of Steve’s head, high into his hairline. “Thank you. Thank you.”

Steve ducked his head, abashed. “Let’s get inside.”

Danny felt the long muscles under his hand concertina down. Something happened under his fingers, but he couldn’t figure it out – electric shock?

“Come on,” Steve directed, lugging them all to their feet. As one, they staggered into his home. The DVD player icon was pinging merrily on a black tv screen.

“Do we need a doctor? Do we need to go to the hospital?” Danny asked, folding onto the couch. Grace sagged against him exhausted and scared.

“Let me listen.” Steve set his weirdly pointed ear against Grace’s back as Danny held her tightly.

Over the curve of Grace’s shoulder, Danny watched. Steve’s expression was abstracted as he focused on listening. Finally, he settled back on his haunches. The luminosity in Steve’s changeable eyes faded.

“Steve?”

“It’s okay, she didn’t aspirate any water. She’s fine. Just a little scared.” Steve smiled, his teeth neat and even. “Let’s get her dried. Warm bath and bed. You can both stay over.”

Danny couldn’t move. He could feel the waves threatening to pull Grace away. He held her tighter and Grace didn’t complain, twining her arms around his neck.

“Danny,” Steve said sharply. “You need to get Grace settled. You both need dry clothes.”

Steve didn’t give Danny any choice, getting him standing with a firm hand. Numbly, Danny let Steve shepherd him up the wooden staircase to the master bathroom with its kick-ass deep bath with jacuzzi jets. Steve was a bit of a hedonist. Steve knelt and turned the faucet.

“You want some bubble bath, Grace?” Steve asked. “Grace?”

She lifted her face from Danny’s neck and sniffled. “Please.”

Steve rooted through the small selection of bottles lined up on the side of the bath and squeezed what looked like shower gel under the gushing water. The scent of citrus-lemon filled the air as Steve vigorously waved his hand back and forth under the water making bubbles.

“When I have a bath I either throw in a little piece of ginger root or bath salts.”

“Thank you,” Danny said again.

Smiling softly, Steve said, “I’ll lay some sweats on my bed for you. Mary left some clothes, they’ll be big, but Grace can wear one of the t-shirts like a dress.”

As he left the bathroom, he briefly clasped Danny’s shoulder.

 

~*~

Grace fell asleep on Danny’s lap between one sip of hot chocolate and the next. Practiced, Danny slipped the mug from her lax fingers and absently took a mouthful. It was the good stuff.

“Why do you have hot chocolate in the house if you’re allergic to it?” he asked.

“Gift.” Steve sipped at his herbal tea “It was one of those gift sets with the mug, marshmallows, whisk and chocolate. It was in the cupboard.”

“What happened to the marshmallows?” Danny tipped the mug to look into its depths.

“Mary ate them – otherwise I probably would have given the gift set to that HPD charity raffle in June.”

“So Mary?” Danny waggled the mug back and forth.

“Is also allergic to chocolate? Yes.” Steve canted his head indicating upstairs. “Look why don’t you put Grace in Mary’s room. There’s fresh sheets. You can have the guest room. I’ll crack my dad’s whisky. I think you need it.”

Danny looked down at Grace’s peaceful face smushed up against his chest.

“I don’t think that I’ve ever been so scared.”

“That was nothing,” Steve said with studied offhandedness. “That was a little swell. I would have got her back even if there had been a hurricane.”

Danny glowered, but conscious of the sleeping weight in his arms didn’t go for Steve’s jugular.

“That was my baby out there.”

Steve backed out of reach, pressing up against the arm of the sofa.

“She learned a valuable lesson tonight,” he said. “She learned to respect the power of the sea. And tomorrow morning I’m going to take her swimming.”

“Over my dead body,” Danny spat.

“You can’t let your fears hold her back,” Steve said. “If she doesn’t get into the water tomorrow, she might never go in again. Do you really want that? She lives in Hawaii. She’s safe with me. You don’t know how safe.”

“I do,” Danny said woodenly.

“I know you watch the documentaries on National Geographic. Read the biographies.” Steve raised a mocking eyebrow. “But you can’t understand the breadth of my training and experience. Nothing will happen to Grace out there when I’m in the water with her.”

“What about sharks?” Danny said feebly. A shark? Sharks? Even a SEAL couldn’t protect his baby from Jaws.

“Even from sharks, Danno,” Steve promised.

~*~

When Danny returned from settling Grace down, Steve was sitting at his desk, laptop open before him. The glow from the screen illuminated the sharp planes of his face and his downturned mouth. He tapped a finger tip, staccato against the plastic housing.

Shit, Danny had just closed the lid on the laptop. He hadn’t cleared the cache.

“You could have just asked, you know.” Steve raised his head, and said with too sharp niceness, “You spelt _litus_ wrong.”

 **  
_fin_   
**

**Author's Note:**

> Child in momentarily peril


End file.
